Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Cuba and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing James Chance & The Contortions to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
The Motions,
Boz Scaggs,
The Evens,
The Golliwogs,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Alphaville,
Duran Duran,
Pierre Henry,
Byron Stingily,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monochrome Set,
Country Teasers,
Bill Near,
Bill Wells,
Livin' Joy,
Pere Ubu,
Rakim,
Cluster,
Stiv Bators,
Joy Division,
World's Most,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Blancmange,
Sixth Finger,
Marine Girls,
Yazoo,
David Axelrod,
Index,
Drive Like Jehu,
Youth Brigade,
Nas,
Monks,
Erasure,
Scion,
Brand Nubian,
Half Japanese,
Josef K,
Pylon,
Bluetip,
Boogie Down Productions,
Icehouse,
Alice Coltrane,
The Trojans,
Von Mondo,
Flipper,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Tremeloes,
The Misunderstood,
The Litter,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Eve St. Jones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pagans,
Ice-T,
Lucky Dragons,
Main Source,
Tomorrow,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.